Unheard
by Nestor Stone
Summary: Troubled by recent events, Buffy leaves Sunnydale and meets a deadly foe.


Unheard

Buffy the Vampire Slayer 

Between Seasons Two and Three

By Nestor Stone

Disclaimer: All characters are property of their respective owners.

The room is dark save the light of the computer screen, mute save the clicking of the keyboard. A teenage boy sits alone in his room, surfing the 'net and chatting with friends. He is absorbed in the cybernetic transmission of thought to silicon. He stares, his eyes dry from neglected blinking, at the scrolling text. His involvement is interrupted by a strange creaking sound and a rush of air into the room. He sits up, locked in surprise, staring at the open window. He hadn't left it that way. Rising from his chair, he slowly makes his way to the window a few feet away. He looks through, satisfied that the area is empty. Closing the window, he turns- and comes face to face with a horrible creature. The boy stands there, frozen with fear, his palms sweating and his breathing erratic. The creature eyes him hungrily, salivating and licking his bandaged lips. Yellowed bandages cover him, tears reveal a yellow and pink assortment of lesions and scars. The creature's black clothing is unfamiliar- from a past era, frayed and weathered with age. Grotesque, clawlike hands work mischeviously by its head. The bandages on its face split to permit a gaping maw of crooked, yellow fangs and rivers of drool as it leaps at its meal. Nearly overcome with fear, the boy dodges the assault and runs for the door. He franticly works the lock and manages to open the door. He flies from the doorway to the stairs at the end of the hall and makes a careless, mad descent down the stairs. A muted feeling of calm washes over him as he stumbles into the living room where his mother and father sit peacefully. The father is reclining lazily in his favorite chair, reading a newspaper while the mother sits on the couch, knitting something. Gasping for air, he goes to his parents for help. "Mom, Dad, call 911, there's someone in my room!" he screams. They don't flinch, absorbed in their activities. The boy is bewildered- didn't they hear him? He stands in the middle of the room, waving his arms frantically and screaming at the top of his lungs: "Mom, Dad, can't you hear me?" He rips the newspaper from his father's hands, tosses it to the floor, and shakes him violently. "Dad! What's wrong with you?" The patriarch rises from his chair and casually picks up the sports section laying a few inches away. He walks back to his chair and continues reading without as much as a glance toward his son. The boy is becoming increasingly worried when he hears a sound at the stairs: clunk-thump, clunk-thump, clunk-thump. He looks in the direction of the noise and sees the man-thing limping down the stairs, dragging his left leg. The boy turns to his mother and kneels at her feet weeping. "Mom, please, help me!" She doesn't move her attention away from the sweater she's knitting. Confused and frightened beyond belief the boy goes to the phone and dials 911. He waits and waits, but no one answers, he listens to ring after ring until he feels a dank, dirty air at his back and spins around. The thing is looking at him with hunger in its eyes and the boy trembles with a look of paralyzed fear. The thing leaps at him again and this time the boy doesn't dodge. His parents sit in silence as their only son is torn limb from limb in front of them, his screams echoing throughout the house: unheard.

* * * * *

A short, pretty blonde girl walks the sidewalk, dressed in black and carrying a brown duffel bag. Her face is downcast and she walks with an air of depression. Her name is Buffy Summers, and she is the Vampire Slayer. She has lost everything- her home, her friends, and her love. She is on the run now, on the run from herself, and from demons she can't slay with her powers. Her mind is full of question and doubt, wondering where to go from here. She finally decides to get some lunch and then wait for her bus. After some time she finds herself in a residential area: sunny like average California, green and pristine, like average suburbia. A normal person wouldn't expect to see police cars and a crowd huddled in front of one of the houses, but like Buffy was reminded of so often lately, she isn't normal. She walks into the crowd and overhears two housewives. "Terrible thing, the parents woke up this morning, went downstairs, and found their son, dead in the living room," she says with morbid interest. "Did he fall or something?" asks the other. Buffy hopes that's all. "No," says the housewife," he was murdered. Torn apart. They couldn't even recognize him except for his clothes." Buffy was becoming worried she wouldn't catch that next bus. "Do the police know who did it?" "No, but they think it must have been some wild animal. They just don't know how it got in. All the doors were shut and locked, the windows too. Just between you and me though, I think the parents know something, I mean how do you not hear your only son get dismembered in your own home?" After a while the crowd disperses but the cops remain. Buffy sighs and walks down the street. After buying lunch she waits a few more hours at the local mall, window-shopping. Around midnight she returns to the house to find it devoid of gawkers and police. The owners' mini-van is also missing, as Buffy had expected: she wouldn't want to stay in the house either. She ducks under the police tape and passes through the door, stepping inside and into the crime scene. The room is taped off and a white outline covers the floor. It isn't the outline of a human body. It is the outline of what might have once been a human body. The tape reminds her of Kendra, dead at the hands of the vampire Drusilla, the vampire she let escape with Spike. She made a deal with Spike to save the world. But that wasn't the hardest thing she had to do. She collects herself and examines the scene more closely. Blood still stains the floor, the walls, and the furniture. Well at least it's not vampires, she thinks, they wouldn't be this wasteful. Seeing nothing of import she makes her way upstairs. Assuming the The Matrix poster marks the victim's room she carefully enters. It looks like the typical room of a typical 14-year-old. Posters make determining the original pattern of wallpaper impossible and range from Star Wars to South Park. The bed is unmade and dirty clothes challenge the carpet for supremacy. It reminds her of Xander's room. The computer sits upon an old desk and has probably already been searched by the police. Thinking they'll probably pick it up the next day for a more thorough search, she decides to see what she can find. She boots it up and hopes she can remember enough from the handful of times she'd been in computer class and from hanging around Willow to operate it. Willow was hurt because I failed, too. The computer search takes some time. She finds various role-playing games and a startling amount of pornography before she gives up on finding anything useful. She is nearly finished when she hears a strange sound at the window. She rises and goes to it, looking out for signs of nasties. Something stirs behind her and she spins around to face a hideous, bandage-covered monster dressed in dated, black clothing. She immediately assumes a fighting stance. "I'm assuming you're not the housekeeper," quips the slayer. The creature opens its disgusting drool factory prompting an emphatic "Ewww" from the heroine. It leaps at her, but she side steps and punches its left side. The creature falls to its knees, hurt and surprised. He swipes at her with his right hand which she deflects. A roundhouse to his mid-section sends him towards the window where he leans back, panting. The Slayer pivots and steps into a sidekick that sends him out the window with a loud thud on the ground. She sprints and looks through the window but sees no sign of her assailant. An inspection outside a few moments later turns up similar results. Annoyed, she grabs her things and decides to find a cheap motel for the night.

After some searching for the most out-of-the-way, run-down, and cheap place she can find, she finally settles on the Relax-O Inn. Its appearance is akin to the typical roadside motel. Retro architecture and chipped lime-green paint accent the partially burnt-out sign spelling "Reax-O". Opening the door with a slight creak she finds the manager still at the counter, watching a re-run of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and sitting back in a coffee-and probably much more-stained rolling chair. Buffy rings the bell and sets her bag on the counter. She stares at the back of the manager's head for a few more moments. He is balding, what little dark brown hair remaining glistening sickly with oil marking an obvious hatred for showers and obsession with hair spray. He merely sits there, not particularly absorbed, but laughing at regular intervals. Thinking he must not have heard her she rings again, to no avail. "Hello, paying customer here," gripes the impatient Slayer. When the aggravation exceeds controllable limits, she picks the bell up and tosses it against the wall, whizzing past the man's head. It rolls across the ground and touches his right foot. He seems to notice it for the first time, eyeing it curiously for a moment then walks it to the counter. Before Buffy can begin chastising the middle-aged high school drop-out, he places the bell back in its place, turns around and sits down. She exchanges the dumb struck look on her face with one of rage and is about to begin a tirade when the door behind her opens and a couple walks into the lobby. She turns to them, but they walk through her, knocking her aside, appearing not to notice their own discomfort from the encounter. They walk up to the bar and ring the bell. The manager jumps up and promptly finds them a room. After a credit card exchange they walk down the hall and up a staircase, leaving one baffled slayer.

Confused and aggravated, she ponders the situation for a few moments before coming to a solution. The creature she fought must have something to do with what's going on. Deciding she's not going to get much sleep on a park bench after 17 years of a warm bed, she makes up her mind to go after the thing that attacked her and hopefully break the spell. She leaves her bag there, obviously no one is going to steal it. Buffy makes her way through town until she comes upon the house from earlier. Repeating her previous entrance procedure, she makes her way to the kid's room and waits. And waits. She wakes up with the alarm at 8:00 in the morning. Shaking the consequences of sleep from her head, she curses herself for dozing off. Obviously the thing from the night before isn't about to make a repeat visit anytime soon. She considers things for a moment then grunts when she comes to the inevitable conclusion. Buffy gets up from the bed and sits in the desk chair facing the computer. Still on from her episode the night before, she connects to the internet and runs a search on "demons." It takes some time before she finds a sight that isn't all talk and looks through the database. She notices both a message board and chat room, but realizes that would be a waste of time. After running searches on everything from "icky bandage man" to "invisible magic" she finds one entry titled "Racpar." She clicks on the link and is presented with an engraving of the thing she saw. She reads it out loud, hoping the sound of her voice will keep her awake: "Racpar: A demon that feeds once every spring. Lacking stealth or impressive physical attributes, it targets young adolescents for their inaptitude and size. When a specific target is chosen, it casts a spell on itself and the victim that causes all others to become ignorant of their presence. It is not true invisibility since both cast reflections. Any actions on the world such as moving inanimate objects or speaking are also invisible and inaudible to others. It must feed on its prey before it can reverse the spell, usually some hours later. Its death brings about immediate reversal of the spell, however. Feeds for one week before returning to hibernation. Difficult to kill since each can have a different weakness, usually a pierced heart or decapatation... Well, you're no Mother Theresa, are you?" Leaning back in her chair she stifles a yawn. It must kill its target, eh? Guess that means I don't have to find him, I just need to let him find me. Looks like I don't need Giles after all. She instantly regrets the thought after what he went through at the hands of Angel. She stops thinking about Angel. "Hm... Possible habitats: caves, mine shafts, any abandoned areas for safety during hibernation." Suddenly she remembers seeing a dried-up well in a clearing near this neighborhood. She turns off the "idiot box" and sprints through the door, downstairs, and outside. After a few minutes, she finds the well and looks down. A ladder leans inside the well and peaks over its edge. She doesn't remember seeing it before. She swings over the side and carefully climbs down its wooden frame. Up close she can see the cracks and age of the wood. She catches a few splinters but manages to stifle her curses in the interest of surprise. After a long climb she finds the ground: dusty and littered with bits of straw. A collection of bones and fragments of familiar bandages littering the floor confirm her suspicions. She notices the absence of the Racpar and decides to just sit and wait. Been doing a lot of that lately. After what could have only been an eternity, the ladder tremors, jarring her from her brooding. She stands and readies herself. The ladder shakes with the accompaniment of the footsteps that echo off the walls. A full minute passes before the first foot pops into view. It slams down hard, jarring the decrepit ladder. The other foot is laid precisely, carefully. After what seems like another eternity, the figure plants both feet on the earth. Slowly it turns and faces the Slayer. A face of shock is followed by one of extreme rage as it growls and lunges toward her, swiping its claws. She sidesteps and kicks a roundhouse that lifts the creature several inches into the air. It falls to his face with a thud and a whoosh as the air rushes from its lungs. "You should quit with the red meat, it makes you irritable," Buffy says to aggravate it more than to amuse herself. With surprising quickness it slashes in her direction, tearing the front of her shirt. "Dammit, I didn't pack my favorite clothes to have you demon types tear them all to pieces." A kick to the monsters head sends it into a flip ending with it landing on its stomach. The slayer dashes forward and steps on her opponent's neck, earning a ghastly and satisfying crunch. Though satisfied she still feels oddly disappointed. "Well, it did say you lacked 'impressive physical attributes,' guess it wasn't kidding." Shrugging, she turns around to the ladder and steps on the first rung when she hears a stirring behind her. She spins around in attack position, but finds nothing there: not even the corpse. Realization kicks in just when she feels an itchy hand on her throat, claws digging into her skin. Impulsively, she elbows the thing behind her and grabs the hand that held her, breaking it at the elbow. She hears a screech of pain as it pulls away and heads for the ladder. Buffy looks around a moment for a weapon and spots a broken femur laying at her feet. Picking it up and deciding it's sharp enough she races to the ladder. Grabbing the creature's shoulder she pulls it off the ladder earning the proper sound when it hits the ground. She kneels down and plunges the bone deep into its heart. It breathes one last squeal as the last remnants of life leave its body. The Slayer stands and waits a moment before convinced of its demise before climbing out of its home. She finally makes it back to the "Reax-O" and is this time greeted by her patron. After she is shown her room she collapses on the bed for a much-needed rest, plagued with troubling dreams.

THE END


End file.
